


I'm Here

by Rukosband



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Thorki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 04:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rukosband/pseuds/Rukosband
Summary: The prophesied Ragnarok has happened, destroying his home and leaving Thor and his people stranded in space. Before a decision is to be made, he reflects in the mirror of the Captain's quarters when a familiar figure appears.*Starts from where the movie left off with Thor and Loki's conversation in the ship's room.





	I'm Here

The face that stared back, worn and exhausted, had one remaining blue eye that reflected defeat and despair. The other, gone, taken by a blade that had been brandished at the hands of a sister he had only just learned of a few days ago. A patch covered where his right eye should be, masking the damaged flesh underneath. He wasn’t sure if he liked it: looking more like his father.

In the span of a few days, he’d learned that the empire his father had built stood on the subjugated realms not out of the peace he had been led to believe, but through the thousands of years of wars waged by a king and his daughter. Hela, the Goddess of Death, his sister, had revealed these truths in her conquest for destruction and power over Asgard. She had first come for his father on Earth, aware that his failing power was all that was stopping her from her supremacy. But Odin was old and ready to leave the living and the mantle of king to his son. He departed, his spirit and body fading into the next world, thus initiating the gateways to crumble for Hela’s arrival.

She was strong - too strong. Had destroyed his hammer with little effort and backed he and his brother into a corner. He couldn’t defeat her and her power only grew with her return to Asgard. Odin had locked her away for thousands of years in Hell itself because he feared her power and bloodlust. And if his father could not stop her, how could he?

The Goddess of Death - the name suited her for she seemed above death itself. He’d unleashed everything in his power, summoned the fiercest lightning he’d ever mustered, and it still wasn’t enough to put an end to her reign of devastation.

There was nothing left but to admit that he had lost. She had him, a hand on his throat, knives between his ribs, and his people on the brink of slaughter. It was then that he made a choice. A choice that was perhaps worse than letting Hela rule Asgard.

Surtur’s words, the demon he had defeated before his sister’s tyranny, echoed through him. _“Ragnarok has already begun. You cannot stop it. I am Asgard’s doom, and so are you. All will suffer, all will burn.”_

Perhaps the demon had seen this coming. He should have taken his temporary victory and his visions more seriously. Visions always came true, did they not? Their purpose was but mere warning. And Ragnarok was prophesied and a divination cannot be stopped.

He had unleashed it, or rather, Loki had under his prompting. It was a double-edged sword, that plan. The eternal flame lit Surtur’s crown and awakened the demon, unleashing his envisaged fury onto Asgard - his home. But as he fled with his people, watching the fiery demon crush and burn Asgard to the ground, Hela and her army fell with it.

Heimdall, his last remaining friend, consoled him that Asgard was a people, not a place. So long as they survived, Asgard would continue to exist within them. But now he and the remaining Asgardians were refugees with nowhere to go, marooned on a vessel in the vast reaches of space. And his people expected him to lead.

He glanced with his one remaining eye at the eye patch that garnished his face and felt saddened by it. It would forever be a constant reminder of the father he’d lost, a father who had tried to raise his son into a better man than he, and the home he’d sacrificed. He touched it, testing the edges when a familiar figure reflected in the same mirror. His private self-loathing interrupted, he turned around.

“It suits you,” Loki told him with confidence.

Thor smiled weakly to himself as he faced his brother. A softened gaze lightening a face that usually grinned with mischief held eyes filled with a grief similar to his own. At least he still had one member of his family alive. Adopted brother or not, he knew the two of them had grown closer after this ordeal and he thanked the old gods for his aide. He picked up the decorative shell soap dish and played with it between his fingers. “Perhaps you’re not so bad after all, brother,” he responded, remembering the many quarrels and betrayals the two had shared.

“Maybe not,” Loki grinned.

After a pause in thought, Thor leaned a hip against the counter. “Thank you,” he told him. And he meant it. Without his brother, he and the rest of their people may have fallen to Hela’s wrath. But as the name ‘God of Mischief’ implied, Loki was always full of cunning tricks. He tossed the dish into the air and caught it with a hand. Thor knew better than to fall for such illusions again. “And if you were here, I might even give you a hug.” He lobbed the small decorate dish at Loki, expecting it to phase through him and reveal the false image of his brother like so many times before.

But Loki caught it. “I’m here,” he revealed, a gentle smile just surfacing in his green eyes.

A half-laugh shook Thor’s shoulders as the tense muscles loosened. His brother was always surprising him, but this was a welcomed one. He left the counter and moved to embrace Loki. His brother had braced at his approach but hadn’t run away like he usually did. He wrapped his arms around his lithe brother, holding him close, but the embrace was gentle, lacking the strength he’d usually put into a hug.

Loki slackened into him, sensing that Thor needed the comfort of another in this time of peril for he, too, had lost his home. And in this moment of weakness, Loki reached around his brother, the soap dish still in hand, and clutched at the armored leather that adorned Thor’s back. He pressed his face into a shoulder, scenting the sweat and blood from their battle with Hela, and gasped when he felt the roughness of Thor’s unshaven face brush against his skin. He arched into him, offering his neck when he should have pushed Thor away, but for some uncharacteristic reason, he found himself wanting it - craving the hot lips that traced his skin. “Brother,” Loki breathed out, nearly shuddering from the intimacy.

“Hmm?” Thor hummed in response.

“You said a hug.”

Thor paused, his warm breath bathing Loki’s shoulder. “Did I…” he mused, then withdrew from his grasp, a callused hand gently cupping the flushed cheek of Loki’s. The God of Thunder pressed his lips against the other’s, nothing rough or passionate, just a comforting, tender contact to tell him that he cared.

Loki was stunned, the dish escaping from his grasp and clattering onto the floor. He didn’t reciprocate, not right away, for it was common for his brother to be invasive during physical contact. But this time was different; his brother was different. More… mature perhaps. And upon realizing how comforting it was to have Thor kissing him, his hands left the leathered back and snaked up to the muscular neck, pulling him closer. They weren’t so different in height, Thor only a couple of inches taller, but he normally towered over Loki. Not at this moment; not after showing his weakened resolve.

The breaking of lips was slow, like the two didn’t want it to end, foreheads still pressed together as they inhaled one another’s air. Loki made the first move, his thin fingers caressing the intact side of Thor’s face. There _was_ something different, and it wasn’t the cropped hair or missing eye. “You’ve changed,” he finally uttered. His brother’s brow furrowed at that remark, regret sparking in his remaining eye. Loki smiled softly. “It’s a good change,” he assured him.

Thor closed his eye and rotated his face enough to kiss Loki’s palm before interlacing their fingers with his much larger hand. He held his brother’s hand to his face and almost seemed to breathe in his scent. The eye peeked over at him, a silent understanding lying in the blue. “You’ve changed as well,” he said with a serious tone. A smile cracked his somber expression. “In a good way,” he jested.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't much of a shipper with the Marvel characters but after seeing an artist I follow's Thorki art, my outlooks were swayed. This was just a quick drabble that I needed out of my head.


End file.
